Destroying So Sweetly
by Angst Is My Middle Name
Summary: Just an idea that wouldn't go away. Angst! Wilson... HouseWilson friendship... sorta...


**_Sorry if this doesn't make much sense, but it popped into my head and refused to leave until I wrote it down. You know how ideas can get sometimes... Anyhoo, ENJOY!!!_**

**_Disclaimer: If I owned House... I wouldn't be on here writing fanfic... I'd be writing for the show, and good things would happen!_**

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Wilson peered through the window at his patient and the attending nurse. He had never seen the young man before… but he might've passed him in the hallway. He seemed to be talking to the girl, Abby Pierce. Wilson had half a mind to walk away and leave, but something told him to stay. The young man was suddenly searching for a syringe in one of the drawers. The oncologist wanted desperately to burst in there ask the nurse what the hell he was doing, but he couldn't move; he was rooted to the spot. Only when the young man injected the contents of the syringe into Abby's IV did Dr. Wilson go in, shouting, "What the hell are you doing?!"

The nurse was silent, a wordless prayer flowing past his lips, his hands folded before him. Abby's stats began to quickly drop. Dr. Wilson bellowed for a nurse. Abby soon flat-lined. Despite everything they did, they couldn't revive her. Wilson spun around, fully intending to be very angry with the nurse, but he wasn't there. He stormed out and harassed anyone he could find to figure where the perpetrator went… turns out he went to lunch.

When Wilson burst into the cafeteria shouting, "You bastard! You killed her!", everyone turned to stare at the typically calm oncologist. He vaguely noticed Cuddy, House, and the ducklings among those gaping at him. The nurse, Freddie Byrnes, stood and addressed Dr. Wilson.

"What seems to be the matter, doctor?" he asked calmly.

Before anything could be done, Wilson hauled off and punched him in the face. Chase and Foreman jumped up to restrain him as Byrnes fell to the floor. The young man got up off the floor, blood dripping down his chin, and looked coldly at Wilson, saying in a deadly quiet voice, "I hardly think I warranted that, doctor."

"You son of a bitch, you damn well deserved it!" he screamed in response, thrashing against the two doctors holding him, "You killed her! You put that poison in her IV, and you killed her! YOU PROBABLY KILLED ALL THE PATIENTS WHO DIED WITHOUT WARNING WITHIN THE LAST TWO MONTHS, TOO! DIDN'T YOU?!"

The room went silent. Nurse Byrnes was quiet for several seconds before calmly responding, "If I had not done it, they would have suffered terrible pain on their way to death. It was an act of mercy for them. I prayed for them, killed them, then prayed for God's forgiveness."

"How dare you use God's forgiveness to justify that!" Chase hollered from behind Wilson, "That's not how God works!"

"He works like that for me," Byrnes replied quietly.

Wilson began bellowing insults at the young man. Chase and Foreman dragged him out of the cafeteria, House right behind them. House ordered Foreman to go back and keep an eye on Byrnes and told Chase to take Wilson up to his office. Wilson spouted a long string of obscenities on the way up and for several minutes after Chase left him alone with House in his office. Quite suddenly, his chocolate eyes welled up with tears and his voice finally cracked.

"I could've saved her, Greg… I was watching from outside," Wilson choked, "I could've stopped him, and I was gonna, but I didn't. I just stood there and watched him kill her."

"You saw a nurse doing what you thought was his job," House replied, "No one can blame you."

However, Wilson just laid on the couch, the tears spilling over, mumbling, "I could've stopped it… I could've saved her…" over and over. Small sobs soon passed his lips. Then…

"GODDAMMIT! SHE WAS IN REMISSION!" he screamed at the room, "SHE WOULDN'T HAVE DIED AT ALL!"

Wilson's breathing was deep and heavy as he tried to calm himself down, control his emotions. House seemed to be, by some grace of God, moved by the emotion of his friend and, hesitantly, reached out and took his hand. Wilson broke down almost immediately, sobs wracking his body. He sort of collapsed forward on an odd angle so that he fell face first into House's shoulder. His tears soon created a small wet patch on the jacket, his repeated moans of grief-stricken self-loathing almost moving House to tears. As the police drove away with the perp in tow, House could only whisper, "It's not your fault, Jimmy. It's not your fault."

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**_Hope you enjoyed it!_**


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